


QuakeRider - Stockings and Lace

by tisfan



Series: Candy Hearts [10]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Party, Stockings, Women's Underwear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 07:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13631457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: With an impossible dress, the Inhuman Face of Shield – Quake – prepares for an elegant evening out. She’d really rather have a hot evening in…





	QuakeRider - Stockings and Lace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soulofevil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulofevil/gifts).



SHIELD’s gala -- partially sponsored by Tony Stark, who probably didn’t even notice the blip on his budget, he certainly wasn’t attending -- was mandatory.

“We’re just plain folks,” Coulson said at the weekly stand-up (several weeks ago, because everyone had to get fancy dress outfits), “and we need to be seen by the public doing normal, ordinary things. Dancing, drinking champagne, eating little hotdogs wrapped in croissant dough. You know--”

“Settin’ fire t’ the garland, accidental-like,” Fitz muttered.

“Oh, hush, Fitz,” Jemma said, elbowing him sharply in the side. “I should like an evening out, just to relax and be appreciated for all the hard work we do, saving humanity. It seems like that should come with some perks.”

The dress was, quite frankly, ridiculous. Daisy turned around, and around again, looking at herself in the three-way mirror. Brilliant red, with a series of openings in the back that showed her golden skin all the way down to her ass, pretty much. The bra, such as it was, that kept her from bouncing inside the flimsy material, was practically duct-tape and floss, although it was in a matching shade of red.

A red thong, garter belt that held up whisper-thin stockings, and heels that brought her up to almost a respectable height. Well, even in regular boots, she was taller than May, which is really all she wanted. But towering over May was fun, too. And if the extra inches brought her to a point where she didn’t have to get on her tiptoes to have a conversation with Reyes, that was just bonus, right.

She didn’t even like to think about how the Ghost Rider loomed over her; how was that even fair, Reyes got a damn flaming skull, he shouldn’t have to grow an extra four inches just to be extra intimidating. Although, she had to admit that Extra™ was kinda what the Ghost Rider was all about.

“Oh, you look lovely,” Jemma told Daisy when they met outside the gala for pictures and to greet the cheering (and some booing, and at least one person that Daisy needed to keep an eye on and drop a word in security’s ear) crowd. “Doesn’t she look lovely, Fitz?”

Fitz agreed with the assessment, but if he took his eyes off Jemma in her sea-green lacy concoction, Daisy would eat her own dress.

In fact she might just do that anyway, if someone didn’t feed her, and that right soon.

“Do you know--” she nudged Jemma casually “--if anyone said any of the consultants were coming?”

Consultant. That was a nice, neutral word for the Inhumans and mutants and powered people like Luke Cage (among others) who sometimes lent SHIELD a hand without being on the payroll.

“Do you want to know if Mr. Reyes is coming, Daisy, you should just go ahead and ask that,” Jemma replied, her eyebrow going up as she -- well, Jemma was too refined to actually _smirk_ , but if she’d let herself relax like just the tiniest bit, it would have been a smirk.

“All right,” Daisy said, rolling her eyes. “Do you know if Robbie’s going to be here?” She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to be there or not. The Ghost Rider wasn’t exactly an ideal party guest, and if there was someone in their little cadre that shouldn’t be there, or who had a number of sins to atone for, the Rider might crash the party. On the other hand, the Rider might well be the ultimate in lie detector test. Not that Robbie should be _used_ like that. He was a person, even if he did serve as a host for a demon, and deserved to be treated like that, and not a tool.

Not like Daisy herself wasn’t treated like a tool. Outside of her own little group at SHIELD, she was the public face of the Inhumans, and nothing at all like a person who might, you know, not want to be a one-trick pony for the press.

“Speak of your devil,” Fitz said, jerking his chin.

And there was Robbie.

Wearing a pale gray suit that might have faded him into the background. Except that to Daisy’s eyes, everything and everyone else blurred out, were unimportant, and there he was, dressed like the modern equivalent of a knight in shining armor, a splash of color (red, of course his tie was red and was in fact, the _same red_ as her dress) at his throat.

Robbie watched her as she crossed the room, the way he watched no one else. Like she was the only creature in the world that brought him any sort of comfort.

“Girl,” he said, when she finally made it over to him, holding out his hand, “you look impossible.”

“Yeah, this dress is impossible,” Daisy said. “I’m wearing gaffer’s tape to hold my boobs up, and I have a wedgie so bad I think my brain is getting crushed.”

Robbie laughed, delighted. “There’s my girl. I was wondering if you’d been replaced by a pod-person.”

“Not today,” she said. “Is there food here, tell me there’s food here?’

“Loads,” Robbie said. “Come on, let’s get some food into you, and maybe I can get a dance out of you.”

“Sounds great,” Daisy agreed. And then, after he got his dance, they could find a nice, private place, and he could get her out of this damn dress.


End file.
